


Mindless

by marrieddorks



Series: the truth about secret relationships [3]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lack of Communication, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 23:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21188090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marrieddorks/pseuds/marrieddorks
Summary: Auguste and Laurent get in a fight about the future and Laurent runs off to clear his head.





	Mindless

**Author's Note:**

> it's my birthday and this is my gift to myself, a continuation of this verse i'm having so so much fun with! i actually finished this early yesterday, but i spent most of yesterday and early this morning with my best friend to celebrate and she just moved into a new apartment and doesn't currently have internet so...here we are! 
> 
> this one is more laurent-focused to give everyone an idea as to where his feelings are atm

“You shouldn’t be drinking coffee so late,” Auguste told him around a mouthful of apple. Truthfully, neither of them should be eating or drinking anything this late, but the kitchen was the best place to meet up in an attack from insomnia. Sadly, the latter tended to make people cranky.

“I could be doing lines of coke in a club bathroom like you did when you were my age. You should be grateful it’s just caffeine,” Laurent said. He was leaning his back against the countertop and the coffee cup never strayed too far from his lips.

“That was one time and I had a lot going on, like fighting to get custody of you,” Auguste said, and even though his voice was light, there was a seriousness there, a clear tone that Laurent was close to crossing a line.

“And cocaine was clearly the best decision to make in that moment.”

“Are you upset with me?” Auguste asked. He threw the apple core into the open trashcan.

“No,” Laurent said with a sigh. “I’m stressed.”

Auguste nodded at the chair across from him once and Laurent didn’t hesitate to push himself away from the counter to slump into the seat. He sat his coffee cup down on the table’s surface but kept his hands around it to cradle the warmth.

“It’s mostly classes,” he confessed, eyes studying the velvet-like surface of his drink, “but there are other things.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve seen the email notification coming up on your phone.”

Auguste leaned back in his own chair, eyebrows furrowed, and Laurent sighed again.

“The emails about houses,” he said with more force than he clearly intended. “Houses back in Arles.”

It was Auguste’s turn to sigh. His forehead smoothed with understanding and he found himself scooting forward in his seat, wanting to reach out for Laurent’s warm hands.

“I’m just looking at all my options,” he said with as much sincerity as he could muster. “Arles has a lot of opportunity and I have connections and –”

“And you’ve set up showings of three separate houses there,” Laurent said.

“I’m not making any final decisions without you, Laurent.” Auguste was desperate for Laurent to understand that.

Laurent even snorted in disbelief more elegantly than anyone had a right to.

“I’m not leaving Marlas anytime soon,” Laurent said. “I’m finishing my degree and I’m going to get my master’s here too.”

“I get that, Laurent, I really do, and –”

“And I hate Arles. I hate it so much that even the name makes my blood cold. I’m not going back there.”

Not a sound could be heard in the room over the blood pounding in both of their ears, in the shallowness of their breathing. Blue eyes were staring at blue eyes, unmoving. The thought and want of sleep had evaded both of them for the remainder of the night.

Then Laurent was standing, quick as light, and his hands were grabbing at the jacket he had earlier discarded onto the couch.

“Where are you going?” Auguste asked.

“Out.”

“Laurent, come on –”

Laurent turned with the same kind of quickness, the ends of his hair nearly slapping Auguste in the face.

“Don’t,” he said, shoving his right arm through the open sleeve. “I understand you’re going to have to move on with your life one day. Despite what your or anyone else may think or have thought in the past, I have always known you were eventually going to grow up and leave this world we’ve built with each other in it. And that’s okay because it has to happen eventually. But you’ve been doing it in secret. Were you planning on buying a house and then dropping the news on me the day of the move?”

Laurent didn’t actually want an answer, that was apparent, but Auguste was scrambling to give him one.

“Of course not! Once I found one that I liked I was going to have you come look at it with me, come pick out which room you’d like to be your bedroom for when you visit.”

“My bedroom until your wife and two and half children need the space.” Laurent’s voice was bitter.

“Is that what this is really about?”

“I’m going out,” Laurent said at almost the exact same time. “I’ll be back at some point. Probably.”

The door echoed when it slammed shut and the rush of cool night air immediately numbed Laurent to his bones. With frigid hands he turned up the collar of the jacket more fully, trying to bring to himself more heat, and he was silently thankful that he hadn’t taken off his warm boots yet.

The streets of the Arran suburb in Marlas were relatively empty this time of night. Only the occasional car and the dim streetlamps provided Laurent with any light, given the moon was blocked by thick, dark clouds, and he found his heartrate calming in the peaceful stillness of it all.

There was no destination in his mind, but when he turned onto Ellium Drive, he knew where his body was taking him, and he found himself stopping on the corner to gather himself.

There was too much going on already, he didn’t have time to even begin to deal with what was going on in _this_ situation.

The awareness of what he was doing didn’t deter him, however. After a moment, he kept walking, and he walked until he was at a now-familiar front door. He knocked forcefully twice.

He could hear the footsteps inside, hear the shuffling around and the flicking on of lights, and suddenly he too was engulfed in light, the front porch one shining brightly and yellow above him.

“Laurent?”

Damen looked snuggly.

Okay, perhaps snuggly wasn’t the right word, given the rigid planes of his barely clothed physique; but the tussled nature of his curls, the sleepiness behind his eyes, and the yawn at his lips were enough to give him the air of snuggly.

Laurent almost shook his head to bring himself back to the situation at hand.

“Do you always answer the door in such a state? I could have been anyone,” Laurent said.

“Well I don’t normally have visitors at,” Damen paused and peered back into his house, squinting at the clock barely visible on the wall, “midnight.” He was looking at Laurent again and this time, with the sleepiness and everything, there was a blatant look of concern there. “Are you alright, Laurent?”

“I’m fine.” Laurent slipped inside, his jacketed arms brushing Damen’s abdomen as he did so, and Damen let him in without question. “And if you’re not too tired to keep up, I have something I’d like to try.”

Damen looked like he wanted to say something, like he wanted to push and get an answer as to why Laurent had walked to his house in the dead of night, but he also looked hungry, a Pavlovian response to Laurent’s presence when alone, and that look won out. He nodded.

Laurent didn’t say anything, didn’t have to. He began walking instead, the path to Damen’s bedroom comfortably memorized, and he didn’t have to turn around to know Damen was right behind him.

The bedroom was minimalistic in decoration. It was a bright room, even in the night, its walls white and its space open. The room unnerved Laurent some, especially at first, because there was really no way to hide here. As Damen had told him the second time they’d ever done anything like this, Laurent’s cheeks when he came were a perfect match for the deep red of Damen’s bed cover. Still, Laurent knew that tonight, he wasn’t going to be the one on display.

Damen’s closet, like the room, was minimalistic in what it held. Damen kept things simple and clean, and it made finding his array of neckties easy. With searching fingers, Laurent picked two, a black one and a blue one, and turned back to the room.

Damen was standing in his own bedroom doorway, eyes glued to Laurent and his chest already rising and falling faster than normal.

“How do you feel about bondage?” Laurent asked him, his voice dripping innocence in hopes of hiding how aware he was of the swooping of his stomach.

“I’ve mostly used those fuzzy handcuffs,” Damen said.

“On others or on yourself?”

“Others…” Damen trailed off, his eyes suddenly going a bit wide. Then they flicked to the bars of his headboard.

“This could be a first for the both of us then.”

He waited to see if Damen would protest. Damen had yet to protest anything Laurent had ever wanted to do, but most everything had left Laurent, at the end of it all, at Damen’s mercy and not the other way around. But Damen didn’t say anything. Instead he walked forward until he was sitting on his own bed, back against the headboard, and he held out his wrists for Laurent to do as he pleased. So, Laurent did.

His heartrate was picking up again, for an entirely different reason this time, and he found himself captivated by the bones of Damen’s wrists and the way they looked wrapped in silk. He kept the knots strong and didn’t give Damen much room to move but maybe two inches from the headboard.

Damen tugged at his right hand once.

“Where did you learn to tie knots?” he asked, and his smile at the new knowledge was blinding.

“Here and there,” Laurent didn’t answer.

Everything was secure and they were face to face, Laurent practically in Damen’s lap. Suddenly it felt like too much and they were both still until Laurent felt more than heard Damen try to reach for him. The ties held remarkably well.

Damen’s eyes were immediately desperate, and Laurent felt a power he so often was at a loss for.

“Ah,” Laurent chastised, shifting his hips to be fully in Damen’s lap now. Then, with one arm braced around Damen’s shoulder, he shifted again, grinding himself down onto Damen’s hardening cock. Even though Damen still had on his boxers, even though Laurent was still clothed from his neck to his feet, the feeling was a rush that came quickly and settled into their skin. Laurent did it again and this time Damen’s hips tried to thrust up to match his movement. The bars of the headboard creaked.

Unable to move his arms, Damen was already shaking with need. His mouth was on Laurent’s neck, but the turtleneck Laurent wore made it impossible to get to that one specific spot, the spot that made Laurent shiver and sigh in Damen’s grasp. Pulling himself to full height in this straddled position, Laurent’s head was just inches above Damen’s own, and it let him lead the kiss, if only for a moment.

Damen kissed him like he was fragile. He always had. And Laurent hated kissing Damen because of it. But he had found early that kissing was damn near necessary for Damen, that if Damen couldn’t kiss, he fell out of an imagined rhythm of sex he had cultivated with his past hookups.

Kissing Damen made Laurent’s toes curl.

“Laurent,” Damen said, and his voice sounded wrecked. Laurent pulled all the way back from him, moving down the bed until he was at the bottom of it, feet away from Damen’s wandering mouth, and able to take in the full picture he made.

His hands were immobile, and his wrists encased in silk. His hair was even more tussled than before and a few rogue curls were falling in front of his eyes, almost blocking the heat in them that was all for Laurent. His mouth was kiss swollen, open and panting, and Laurent wanted to crawl back up to kiss him again, to see if they were hot to touch like they appeared to be. All the muscles in his arms, his abdomen, and his legs were tense, their lines cut and ready for anything, and his cock was fully hard now, its silhouette intimidating and everything Laurent wanted in that moment.

Delicately, Laurent put both of his hands on Damen’s ankles, and Damen jumped, sucking in a breath at both the mere sensation of being touched again and the cold of Laurent’s skin.

“How long were you out walking in this weather?” Damen managed to choke out, but Laurent silenced him with a look and kept his fingers dancing up and up and up until he was settled between Damen’s thighs, until his fingers were at the waistband of the boxers hiding the last of Damen’s decency. Not one to care for decency, Damen was quick to lift his hips so Laurent could pull them off and he shivered in anticipation, shivered in the cool air.

Laurent’s hands had warmed up by taking in the heat of Damen’s own skin as they had danced their way up to this point. So, when he took Damen’s cock in hand, he knew that Damen’s jump wasn’t at the cold.

He traced the vein underneath the head, barely a whisper of a touch, and Damen tried to curl into himself and thrust into the feeling all at once. “What do you want?” he asked Laurent, and Laurent knew that, right now, Damen would give him anything.

“To not think.”

With barely a sigh, Laurent leaned down and kissed the tip. Damen groaned, his eyes shutting and opening all within seconds, drowning in the sensation and not wanting to miss seeing a second of it. Laurent didn’t want to miss a second either, and he kept his eyes on Damen’s face, their view so focused that he could feel the tops of his eyelashes brush at the skin underneath his eyebrows.

Damen looked like a man unhinged when Laurent suckled at the head, dipped his tongue into the leaking slit. So responsive, so vocal, Laurent wanted to get every kind of reaction he could. It was impossible to get all of Damen’s length into his mouth and he stopped when he felt the head bump the back of his throat, stopped when Damen mumbled how Laurent was going to kill him. He used his left hand where he couldn’t continue, moved it soft and slow and completely opposite of how he laved at the underside of Damen’s cock with the flat of his tongue.

There were no thoughts in his mind, nothing except the desire to make Damen come, to see if he could come so hard that he broke at the ever-growing loudness of the creaking headboard.

Laurent’s own cock was straining against the denim of his pants and he thought about bringing his right hand down to undo the button, to bring himself release, but Damen was talking quickly now, nonsense about how beautiful Laurent was, about how wonderful he was, and then he was coming down Laurent’s throat, his hips stuttering as he tried to control their arch, and Laurent was swallowing around him, the entire experience consuming.

It took a few moments to come back to reality. When Laurent did, he found he was back at the bottom of the bed, one foot on the ground as though he wanted turn and run away, and the other curled and poised like he wanted to crawl back up and put a hand on Damen’s twitching-with-aftershocks abdomen.

“Please,” Damen was saying, his eyes heavy and hips arching up again. “Let me.”

Laurent knew what he was asking for immediately and suddenly he had to leave, had to get out of there.

The knots around Damen’s wrists were a bitch to untie and Laurent cursed quietly at himself for doing them so well. When he got the first one done and Damen shook out his hand to regain lost feeling, Laurent did his best to hurry with the second one but Damen’s free hand was on his hip, his fingers digging into the flesh there, unaware of his own strength.

“Please,” he said again, his fingers moving forward to try and unlatch Laurent’s belt, “let me.”

Grateful for his elegant fingers, Laurent quickly and deftly undid the second one and pulled away from Damen altogether.

Then he was walking – not running, thank you very much – to the door.

He tried to remember if he had even brought his keys and the moment’s pause allowed Damen, still naked and shameless, to catch up with him by the entrance.

“Laurent, wait,” Damen was saying.

“I’ve got to get home, Auguste is going to have a fit, and I –”

There was a knock at the door.

Like deer caught in headlights, they both stopped and stared as though a monster was going to pop its head through at any moment, but instead there was another knock, this one more forceful and Damen whispered “Go!” and nodded his head at the hallway. For the first time that night, Laurent listened.

He peered around the corner just barely, but it was enough to see Damen grab at a rumpled blanket hanging on the arm of the couch and wrap it around his waist, and it was enough to see him open the door.

“God, are you getting yourself off? Is that why you didn’t answer your phone?” No one could sound that exasperated but Nik.

“What? No, I was just –”

“You’re all sweaty and naked and red-faced,” Nik said, sounding more irritated than necessarily put off by the assumption.

“What’s going on?” Damen asked instead of continuing that line of conversation.

“Auguste has the search party out for Laurent. They got in some fight and Laurent just walked out of the house and now Auguste can’t find him.”

“Oh?” Damen tried his best to sound surprised.

“Yeah, so put your dick away and get some clothes on.”

“Right…. I’ll be out in a second, okay?” He closed the door and threw the blanket back onto the couch, still shameless. “So that’s why you were over here,” he said, more than asked, Laurent.

“I needed something to occupy my time.” Laurent was suddenly aware at how raw his throat felt.

Damen looked at him, unblinking, and, like always, looked like he wanted to say something more, like he wanted to push until Laurent gave in to telling the truth, but, like always, he said something else instead, said, “I’ll text you when we’re down a few streets so you can get home without anyone seeing you here,” and then he was back in his bedroom to get dressed.

When he left, Laurent snuck a look out the front curtains, watching as he hopped into Nik’s car and they drove away.

Horribly aware of more than just the raw feeling of his throat, Laurent thought that this may have backfired horribly in clearing his mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm beginning to think i need to show a softer side of laurent soon......
> 
> come chat with me on tumblr or even on the captive prince discord! i'm under both as marrieddorks as well ❤


End file.
